


Wine and Blood

by ThunderCant



Series: The Self-Indulgent and Sexy Vampire AU, where not Everyone is a Vampire [1]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Alternate Universe - Vampire, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Begging, Biting, Blood Drinking, Bondage, Cunnilingus, F/F, Handcuffs, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Clamps, Overstimulation, Shameless Smut, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering, Vampire Sex, Vampires, clit torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 12:16:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18410468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderCant/pseuds/ThunderCant
Summary: Of course signal would cut out when an encounter with a bat managed to destroy Claire’s tent. Of course the only place for miles would be a dark and mysterious castle. And hell, why wouldn’t it be queened by a gorgeous lady with a sharp smile and cleavage just on the sinful side of distracting?





	Wine and Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless pornography where Claire gets ploughed into the bed by a hot lady

 

Only an idiot would walk up to a lonely castle in the middle of a storm, location somewhere in Europe, with a busted cell phone. It was the plot of every bad B-movie Chris made her sit through; lost and innocent American girl gets murdered with unconvincing screaming, usually by some guy in a rubber suit. If it was a really high budget flick, it might’ve had some poorly-glued fake fur, too.

But she wasn’t an innocent girl. That was why she had her cute kitty-charm come knuckleduster close at hand.

She also had Leon, who had tagged along because Chris asked him to, and also because he’d never been to Europe. Allegedly a cop. Well, alright, she _knew_ he was a cop in _theory_ , but there was something about his dopey, puppy-dog demeanour that made him hard to take seriously. Even with a knife in his hands.

“If it turns out to be a creep,” she said, flashing the kitty-ears at him, “I’ll punch them in the head and you stab the leg, sound good?”

“I don’t see why I’m playing second gun here.”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Because kitty-dusters are easier to explain than a knife.”

With that, she rapped on the door. It opened the same way every old door did, creaking like an old and tortured soul. Just enough for a sliver of warm light to pass through.

Well, even sliver might’ve been a bit generous. The crack in the door was mostly shadowed over by some huge figure.

“Uh, hello?” Said Claire, waving a little. “I don’t suppose we could use your phone?”

Silence.

“…Parlez-vous anglaise? Er… Sprechen sie englisch?”

The shape thumped away, letting the door billow open to reveal what Claire could only describe as _overdone._

There was a chandelier hanging dangerously from a black chain, as though it had survived an inferno. Sharp crystals, some red, some white, caught the low candlelight and sent it sparkling back at Claire and Leon. The walls were a rich red, untouched by light, still deep and full. Their shadows stretched out softly.

To one side, blending into the wall very poorly, was a butler. Or, he was at least _pretending_ to be a butler. His shirt looked like it was about ready to explode if he so much as breathed too hard, a few buttons already popped off his long, black coat. He had a neat, clip on tie (where would anyone get enough fabric to fit a proper one on him?) and a hat. A fedora, to be exact. It didn’t complement the look.

“Whoa,” said Leon, “this a movie set or something?”

The butler tilted his head at them. Claire coughed and tried again. “Um, is there any chance we could use your phone? We were camping at our tent got torn up in the storm…we just need to call for a cab to come and pick us up.” The butler stayed silent. He barely seemed to register that she was talking to him. Claire sniffed, “a nod or a shake of the head? A yes or no? We’ll walk if we have to, but could you please tell us if we can use your phone-“

“I’m _so_ sorry,” came a voice from above, carried along with the click of heels, “Mr. X doesn’t usually greet guests.” A swish of fabric as the butler- Mr X, apparently- held one of his massive hands out to whoever was stepping down the stairs. “He’s shy, you see, and wanted to bring me down for a _proper_ welcome. Sadly, I was in the middle of some…personal grooming, and I could hardly show up naked.”

The woman who stepped into view was, in Claire’s opinion, somewhere between unfairly attractive and _sinfully_ good-looking, drenched in the same rich reds as her castle, painted on her lips and nails, a gown like blood in the water catching and swirling over her body. Her hands were like fine knives in Mr X’s, and he guided her the last few steps down.

She seemed to glide towards them, pretty white teeth all on show.

“So, how can I help you fine people?”

“I uh…I…”

“Are you a movie star?” Leon blurted out, like he barely registered that the living embodiment of sex was in front of him, “because this feels like it should be a set, it’s so cool. But, uh, we’re not actors- we’re just lost. Do you have a phone?”

All that blinding beauty seemed to dim as she turned her face away to Leon. “Oh? You must have a very high opinion of everyone here.”

Leon tilted his head, like the dog that he so clearly was. Claire could almost see his waggling tail still. “Well, yeah. You’re gorgeous. Claire’s really pretty. And the big guy,” he gave Mr X a smile and a wave, “looks pretty perfect for one, doesn’t he?”

She blinked. Claire burned.

The tension broke when the lady let out a soft chuckle, reaching up to pat Leon on the cheek. “That’s very sweet. Sadly, it’s nothing so exciting- I might rent a few rooms to the odd producer, but it’s mostly just me, and Mr X.”

She turned her gaze back towards Claire. Claire froze as she lifted one of her long fingers to her face, brushing the rain-soaked strands away. “I do have a working phone,” she said, smiling, voice low, “but it’s so very late. Would anyone be happy to get a call at this hour?”

“Uh…No ma’am?”

“That’s right.” She said, responding to Leon but keeping her eyes dead-set on Claire. “Why don’t you stay the night?”

It was like a cold slap across Claire’s face. The lady’s warm, brown eyes suddenly felt like deep, dark pools she could drown in.

“We’d really rather use your phone,” Claire said, trying to stop her voice from dipping into a whisper, “If we call now we might just get back in time, before they lock us out-“

“You won’t,” she said, languidly brushing her hand along Claire’s jaw, tilting it so that she was staring, “the nearest town is miles away. If you try to walk you’ll just arrive all wet and cold, and then where would you be?” The nails dragging against Claire’s skin made her shudder. Too sharp. Too hot. Dangerous. “It may be spring, but a cold snap wouldn’t be strange. With the weather you could freeze.” She turned towards Mr. X, smile crawling up her face. “It would make Mr. X ever so guilty, that he let someone in only for them to run away because they didn’t trust us-“

“Alright, alright! I get the point!” Claire huffed, jerking her face away. “You want us to stay, I get it, jeez. No need for the guilt.”

“I’m glad you’ve seen sense.” She beamed at them. Claire’s irritation started to melt away. “Mr. X?”

He grunted at her.

“Could you please show Leon where the bathroom is? I’m sure he’ll appreciate the chance to dry off in private.”

“Oh, uh, thanks- wait a second, how- hey!”

Claire snapped out of her reverie to see the butler scoop Leon up, bridal style. He was babbling as Mr. X carried him away.

“I can walk, I can walk! I’m a cop for fuck’s sake! I mean, you’re very comfortable and everything but I really don’t need to be carried, I’m not gonna slip and fall, I promise…”

His voice died away. A weight dropped around her shoulders. The lady of the castle was still smiling her sharp little smile, as though she were thrilled to have Claire all alone.

The thought sent Claire’s heart pounding. It hit her, hard- she was alone, in a castle, on another _continent_ with a weird woman that was sizing her up like a piece of meat.

And Leon was gone.

“Would you like the same treatment?” She breathed. “You must be so tired from being stuck outside.”

Claire blushed.

“No…no thank you. I can walk.”

The woman let loose a maddening little chuckle.

“Of course. Follow me.”

 

The deep, rich red followed her through the castle. Every corridor and floor was dark, lit only by the faint glow of candles and what little light would reflect off her proud metal decorations. There was art on the walls too, twisting and changing in the darkness. Some looked like portraits, flickering between the severe face of the living and a soft, empty zombie. Statues curled into weird shapes.

“So,” said Claire, desperate to fill the silence with anything other than the clicking of her heels, “I don’t think you ever told us your name.”

“You never asked,” she said, turning her head back with a little smirk.

“Neither did you.”

“I was under the impression that you wanted to leave.”

Silence.

“Ah, here we are. I hope you find the bathroom to your taste.”

She opened the door with a flourish, and Claire’s jaw dropped. The bathroom was a work of _art_. A black floor so polished that Claire could see her reflection in it, tiles set with shining glass. There were carved soaps, made into fancy flowers, plush towels and bath mats thicker than some rugs, never mind all the little bottle of perfumes and shampoos and conditioners. The collection of hair stuff was probably worth more than Claire’s car.

To say nothing of the bathtub. The bathtub was bigger than her. It was probably big enough to fit that monster of a man downstairs in. It was red (of course) with brilliant gold taps, jets set within and enough fancy products to last a lifetime. There was a rich and heady scent, like she’d been thrown into a pool of roses.

“So? Are you pleased?”

“Yeah…”

“Wonderful.” She clapped her hands together. “Feel free to take a bath if you’d like. I’m sure Leon is probably getting a thorough scrubbing.”

The door closed before realisation hit Claire like a truncheon to the face.

She’d said Leon. She _knew Leon’s name_.

“Hey! Hey, get back here!” Claire hammered on the door. It held fast. “How do you know his name!?”

Tittering, giggling, and then silence. Claire rammed into the door.

She got nothing but a sore shoulder in return. The door was locked. The crazy lady who knew Leon’s name had locked her in the bathroom after her creepy butler had carried him off like a monster carrying off a damsel in a shitty movie and she had _let them_.

Claire huffed, leaning against the door. Right. Okay. Leon was downstairs. She was upstairs. The creepy lady had left her alone, and she didn’t know if Leon was still with Mr. X- though judging by the comments, it was likely. God, what sort of thorough scrubbing did she have in mind? Claire shuddered at the thought and a sudden spike of arousal hit her stomach.

Oh.

Oh, it was not the time.

Sure, Leon had the sort of sweet puppy-like demeanour that had led to a couple of nights together. And sure, it often ended up with him stretched out on her fingers, face pretty and flushed and pleading.

But there was _no way_ that she was going to get distracted by the thought of Leon getting his asshole stretched out by someone who had hands that were at least twice her size. Her hand drifted down to her crotch at the thought, the idea of those big, thick fingers in his mouth, making him drool…

No!

She shook her head, wet hair unpleasantly slapping her face. She tested the door again.

Nope. Locked.

Fuck.

Well, fine. She was stuck in the world’s loveliest bathroom. Her hair was wet, curtains _and_ drapes, and if there was one thing that would get her focused on sensible things like _escaping_ , it was cold water.

She stripped off, keeping the clothes close to the bath so no one could slip in and take them. Just a quick cold dip to help her mind focus.

Still, there wasn’t a shower. The tub was deep and long, water only enough to wet her feet.

The fire still burnt in her belly. Her hands were cold on her warm, smooth body, hands spread and exploring. Past her nipples, over her stomach until her fingers laced through her pubes and dove into her slick folds.

God damn it. The bath was too slow. Her pussy was flush with blood already, whining when she pulled her hand away to stare at her own juices.

Oh that was just too tempting. She rubbed her fingers through her cunt, biting her lip and trying to avoid her clit- just for the moment. Just until she could get into the cold and cool off.

She brushed against the little nub as she dipped her fingers near her hole, gasping as a sharp burst of heat shot through her body. Her clit twitched in interest, starting to peek out of her heavy hood. Claire whined through her teeth, leaning against the tub’s edge, cunt accepting her fingers easily as she thrust them inside. Her palm rubbed her clit as she slid them, in and out, in and out, slick travelling up her hand and encouraging it- faster, faster, more pressure and friction. Curl her fingers up and ignore the cramping, roar of the water and her heart mashing together in her head like an orchestra-

The door clicked open. Claire froze. Fingers in her fluttering cunt, a full view only hidden by her slick hand.

The woman was standing at the door. Her face had curled into a wicked, _wicked_ grin, like a cat that got the cream.

Helpfully, her cunt clenched around her fingers, encouraging Claire to get on with it.

“That doesn’t look a lot like drying off,” she said, mildly, leaning against the doorway. “Oh don’t let me interrupt you, it looks like you’re having a wonderful time.”

Claire scrambled up, dragging her fingers out, trying to dry them on her thighs. The water still roared out of the tap.

“Who the fuck are you?!” Claire shouted, echoing off the walls, breath hot and heavy. “How did you know Leon’s name? Do you get off on acting like some creepy B-movie monster or what?!”

She blinked at that. Then she laughed, low, as though Claire was a child telling her a terrible joke. Strolling forwards, apparently unconcerned that Claire was nude, unafraid of her taut muscles. Confident. A jungle cat being threatened by a mouse.

She stepped past Claire and turned the faucet off. Suddenly, Claire became all too aware of how loud she was, panting, how even her hissing had probably been bouncing off the walls and drawing the lady’s attention.

“You know,” she said, idly, “I wasn’t expecting guests. But when I saw there were two travellers with a broken tent, I knew I had to offer some sort of hospitality. Don’t you think it’s strange? Bats, a storm, a mysterious castle…I’m sure that even you Americans can work it out.”

A sudden rush of wind and Claire felt something hot and wet and _sharp_ against her neck. Predator was more apt than she thought. A wide smile wasn’t just a way to set them at ease, apparently- the woman had been showing off.

_I can eat you alive and no one will find your corpses._

“You heard us talking. You destroyed the tent.”

“Can you blame me? What am I supposed to do when I see a pair of pretty young things?”

“ _Ask?_ ”

She laughed, though this time it was more amused than seductive.

“Oh yes, I’m sure that would have worked out perfectly. Americans are so trigger happy, it would have ruined all my gowns.”

“ _That’s_ what worries you?!”

“These are vintage, I’ll have you know. Some of them are older than your _country._ ” She nudged Claire’s thighs apart, a slit exposing her bare leg and slipping cool flesh against Claire’s hot cunt. “I don’t mean any harm. Well,” Claire could feel her smile against her neck, “Unless you want me to.”

Claire gulped. She forced herself not to rut against the woman’s thigh like some sort of animal, desperate and needy.

Casual sex with Leon was one thing. She knew Leon well enough, even if there wasn’t anything long-term there, and he was sweet. Happy to be on top or under her or snuggling.

Casual sex with a vampire was something else altogether.

“So,” Claire sucked in a breath, trying to keep her cool, “got a name that I should yell if you’re gonna harm me?”

“Ada,” she said, “But I would really rather you call me _Lady.”_

 

Ada’s personal room was what would happen if someone decided to make the concept of sex into a space, like some sort of modern art installation. The walls were covered in paintings of people and beasts wrapped in erotic poses, breasts pushed out, backs arched, cocks engorged and nervous in sharp grasps. She had sculptures too, werewolves caught mid-thrust into a really quite beautifully crafted stone vagina, faces thrown back in ecstasy. There were hooks and rings and all sorts of chains artfully scattered around, a promise of what was to come.

Claire thought it looked a bit tacky.

Ada had given her a dressing gown for the long walk, the only non-red thing in the castle, and it was already slipping off her shoulders. Mostly because Ada had dragged the walk out, showing off the many little details of the corridors and then shoving Claire against them to make out or grind her thigh against her. It was very distracting and had done nothing to keep the thin cloth on.

The air was thick, between the heat nestled in Claire’s groin, the smooth material running over her naked and damp body. Tension, waiting to burst free.

“So,” she said, tugging at the dressing gown to release some heat, “Is there a reason this thing doesn’t fit with the rest of the theme?”

Ada smirked, low and easy, “Maybe I’ll tell you if you’re a very good girl.”

Her long nails drew thin pink lines on Claire’s heated skin, drawing her close. She was still wearing her heels and it gave Ada a few extra inches, enough that she had to bend down to mouth kisses up Claire’s neck. She gasped, cool hands versus a hot and talented mouth, teeth catching the skin. Sucking it, hard enough that she was going to have a whole vine of hickey-berries on her throat.

Her hands clenched rhythmically before settling on Ada’s hips, roaming over the fabric and exploring the soft swell of her ass, how it gave way to hard ridges of muscle and bone when she moved too far up Ada’s back. Up and down with the sharp sucks, the reassuring licks, all in rhythm. She let go with a pop, and Claire barely caught sight of her kiss-swollen lips before Ada dived in to taste. Mouthing softly at first, her pretty and painted lips taking their fill of Claire’s dry and chapped ones, tongue occasionally giving her a quick, teasing swipe, replaced with the knife’s edge of fangs. Just testing the waters, scraping against her sensitive lips, pulling out a whine. Ada pulled away for a second, letting Claire catch her breath, spit starting to bubble around her mouth.

“If you want to suck my blood, you can just ask, you know.”

“I’ll have to bear that in mind.” One hand stayed at Claire’s throat as Ada moved in, moulding their lips together and darting her tongue out, begging for an entrance. Her other hand tugged the dressing gown open, exposing Claire’s breasts, leaving them open to touch. Claire barely noticed at first, absolutely swallowed in the sensations; soft and warm and wet, rubbing her tongue over Claire’s hard palate, drawing out little squeaks at the tickling sensation. She was vaguely aware that Ada’s hand had slid down to her ribs, prompting more noises, getting a deep chuckle to rumble through Claire’s body.

The pinch was like a punch to the gut, sharp, biting pressure suddenly focused on her pink nipple, forcing it into hardness. Claire’s moan was swallowed up, Ada’s grip harsh on her neck, nails just on the edge of painful as she pressed them into her throat, almost choking. Enough to remind her who was in charge.

Claire wouldn’t go down that easily. She squeezed Ada’s ass, hard, dragging her other hand over her tight belly.

Ada reacted immediately, pulling off Claire’s lips, grabbing her arms and pinning them against a wall. She was looming over her, still close enough for Claire to feel her breath. Drool still hung between them.

Silence. Claire’s chest, pounding. Ada’s tight grip on her wrists. Secure.

A challenge.

Ada pushed herself close, pressing their tits together, bodies sliding against each other as she moved between Claire’s legs, knee hard against her burning cunt. She turned her attention to Claire’s neck. The other side, the one that was still free of the blooming marks.

It started with her tongue, licking long stripes from her collarbone to her ear. Leaving little nicks along her smooth and creamy skin, marking it with red petals from her teeth. Red on white.

Claire bit her groan down. Ada started to rock her leg forwards, gathering Claire’s juices gradually until it could almost glide against her pussy, barely catching her swelling clit.

Now that was harder to hold back. A gasp tore out of her throat before she could stop it, and she felt Ada smirk.

And then there was a blistering pressure on her neck, like a wave of pure _feeling_ driving itself deep into her flesh, a hot iron pushed on her as though she were cattle for Ada to mark. Deeper, deeper still, blood welling up from the pinpricks, swiftly swept up by Ada’s moist, talented tongue. Claire barely kept her scream inside, worrying her lip drawing forth more hot, coppery blood.

Ada’s lipstick was indistinguishable from Claire’s own blood, spattered around her mouth. She licked her lips before diving in for another bite, teeth firmly lodged in the wound, coaxing out more and more blood for Ada to eat.

It was really happening. Ada was a fucking vampire, and she’d taken a bite out of her delectable neck. Suckling lazily on the wound, rocking her body into a slow, steady pace against Claire’s dripping pussy.

She pressed another bite into her skin. Claire could almost imagine Ada had fangs like a snake, injecting arousal deep into her body.

The blood spurted against Ada’s tongue and Claire finally moaned, harsh and heady in the quiet air. Ada came up again, kissing her with her own blood. Claire felt like she was floating, high on the ache in her neck and thigh between her legs.

Thoughtlessly, she rolled her hips forwards.

Ada pulled away, beaming. Claire’s eyes squeezed closed as she whined, grinding her hips on empty air.

“Why did you stop?”

Ada tutted.

“You’re being terrifically rude. You can’t even say please when I’ve been so generous. Lending you my robes, giving all my attention to your sweet throat and gorgeous cunt. And you haven’t given me anything in return.” She sighed, dramatic, pulling Claire off the wall. She was absolutely boneless, malleable as Ada threw her to the bed.

Something clicked around her wrists and Claire realised, she was stuck. Ada squatted above her, rubbing her fingers over the bite.

“Why don’t you pay me back, darling?”

Her world was nothing but darkness and sex as Ada’s cunt descended, fabric damp and barely hiding the salty scent that bathed her face. She couldn’t see, she couldn’t move- nothing to strain but her head, sucking through the fabric, tongue and nose trying to get behind that awful barrier. Salty and heavy and thick, just the barest hint of slick as Claire whined, licking Ada’s juices like she’d gone for Claire’s blood.

Ada’s thighs clamped around her ears and she was deaf, desperate, whining up into Ada’s pussy. Her nose finally met wetness and her heart sang, prize before her.

She felt Ada twitch. Claire flicked her tongue into Ada’s folds like it was a delectable dessert, salty fluids coating her tongue and nose as she explored- vagina, labia, clit, all for her to take if only she could reach it.

All to soon, Ada lifted herself away. Claire panted.

Not wet enough. She hadn’t had enough.

“That’s a very good first try,” Ada cooed. She sat back so that her cunt was flush with Claire’s mouth, fabric muffling her panting. “Why don’t we try from this position, darling? It might stop you from bleeding all over my pillows.”

“Mmph!”

“Oh, that’s quite a good noise.” Ada pushed her hips up, swallowing the sounds Claire made with a pleased sigh. “Mmm, if you keep doing that, I might not ever need to buy a vibrator again.”

Fine, if that was how she was going to play, Claire would show her a good time. She breathed heavily, through the nose, before diving in. It was much easier from this position, head able to turn enough that Ada’s panties let her through easily, revealing her sweet cunt like a treasure hidden behind a curtain. Her hair was trimmed and tidy, skin almost glowing it was so flush. Perfect and red and juicy.

Her neck ached as she started near the top, laying the flat of her tongue along those deep folds, dipping deeper with the point as she dragged it up. An invisible trail she’d drawn, nose nestled next to her cherry-red clit, touching it soft and slow. Trying to move the hood out of the way in time for Claire’s tongue to circle her sensitive nub, relishing in the little shifts as Ada enjoyed her talents. She kept it up for a second- laying flat and pointing, sometimes curling or dipping near her dripping entrance, taking more salt onto her tongue.

She thought about her own cunt, dribbling and neglected, all the thoughts of sex and orgasms and that chic hair messed up stored deep in her belly. She thought about how Ada would probably not do that.

Then she closed her mouth around Ada’s clit and sucked.

 _That_ drew out a noise, a sharp, half-choked sort of thing that made Claire grin on the inside. She pretended not to notice, teeth barely closing for long enough to Ada to feel the bite before she went back to sucking on it. Sometimes faster, clumsy and teeth scraping, coaxing hisses from Ada, or slow, leisurely- more like she was taking time to worship her clit, kissing it with reverence and care, leaving long licks before drawing it into her mouth again.

Ada clenched and threw herself back. Visibly frazzled, sweaty head and dishevelled hair. Claire smirked.

“Was that enough, Ada?”

Ada didn’t respond. She stepped off the bed, fussing with something metal, and Claire’s eyes went wide when she came back.

Claire had seen clamps before. Claire had not seen clamps like Ada’s clamps, which were a lot less like a bit of nipply fun and a lot more like a bear trap. They were gold, inset with little red gems, and had teeth. Ada squeezed them between her fingers and said, “It’s _lady_ to you, darling.”

It was like getting bitten. Claire screamed out as they closed around her nipples, unyielding and harsh as she thrashed on the bed. All it did was make them shake, clamping harder around her.

There was a chain attached and it felt much, much heavier than it possibly could have been.

There was a clamp attached to it too. Claire’s eyes went wide, pupils all blown out, when Ada brushed the cold metal against her clit. It sent a shudder through her, clamp shining and wet.

“Well?” Ada rubbed it until the hood was pushed back, clit sticking out like a dog scenting the air. “What should I do with this thing?”

Claire gulped.

“Should I tend to it slowly? Pin back the skin so that it can’t hide from me? Bite it and suckle like it’s a garnish on a lovely dessert?” The metal was warming up, it had to be, but it still felt like Ada was dripping ice over her clit, cool and calm and just on the edge of pinching. “Maybe I’ll just slide this little piece on top and tug until you’re bleeding, hmm? Would you like that?” She pulled on the chain and Claire gasped, nipples screaming and sore. Ada loomed over her, face close enough to kiss.

“Let’s find out.”

Every other pain in her body faded into the background, swallowed by the bite of ice surrounding her clit, pumping pure sensations into her body. She squirmed under Ada’s weight, unsure where to focus, whether to think about her sensitive nipples turning rosy red under the clamps, the sharp pain-pleasure-pain in her clit as metal and soft fingers mingled, rubbing, tugging, nudging, Ada leaving her breathless and heady as she struck her lips, tongue diving in. Stealing away all the oxygen in the room until Claire slipped deep into blackness. The world didn’t exist anymore, the world was just Ada Ada Ada- Ada on her cunt, Ada on her tits, Ada in her mouth like she could suck her soul out. All Ada.

Claire was drowning in a boiling sea, eaten alive by a siren, hips humping Ada’s hand uselessly in spite of the pain that was barely pain anymore, all mixed up and twisted together with stabbing pleasure curling up in her belly.

“You’re such a good girl,” Ada breathed, pulling apart from her lips, close to her ear, “good girl, good girl, you’re going to look so lovely when you come apart, don’t you want to come apart?”

The noise that tore out of her throat was barely human. It was emotion, raw and bleeding, stealing away all her thoughts until she was nothing but a _thing_ for Ada to puppet, flesh and bone greedily hunting pleasure.

“That’s it, darling, that’s a good girl.” Another tug, another keening whine. Fingers sliding inside, palm rubbing, metal snapping, biting. “You can do it.”

Claire’s hips thrust forth, uneven, wild, out of step like a drunk man. She was so close, so close, body tight and ready to burst into waves of pleasure and pain, nerves on edge and raw. Ada played her like a violin, back arching as another finger slid into her cunt, twitching and clenching and wet.

Ada bit down on her throat and Claire came undone with the flow of her blood.

“Ada- Ada please, Ada, _Ada!”_

Her cunt swallowed Ada’s fingers to the knuckle, clit and nipples overwhelmed with sensation as Claire came, thrusting, almost humping her hand, driving herself through the orgasm, sobbing hard and heavy. Her thrusts turned weak, body nothing but a mess of trembling limbs and a beating heart. Ada humming against her neck, lapping up the blood.

Ada’s fingers were still in her twitching pussy. Claire was too tired to care. Even if she was sensitive, each breath sending needles down through her clit, her body was sweaty and exhausted.

Ada’s tongue tickled. She sucked the last of the blood away. It was like rubies on her lips, and she shared them with Claire once more. Slow, kneading the back of her neck with that blood-stained hand.

Everything seemed hazy. Ada’s eyes were deep and beautiful and Claire smiled.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” She said between kisses. “You have such a beautiful voice when you’re cumming.” Ada finally pulled her fingers out, holding them up to Claire’s lips. She sucked on them slowly, coating her own tongue with herself. Spit dripped on her chest as Ada examined them herself, sucking off Claire’s spit and juices.

“Delicious.” Ada said, slipping off the bed. Claire was alright with that. The world was pleasant and fuzzy and warm. Her whole body felt like it was tingling.

Fabric swished at her side. Something clicking and pulling. Claire closed her eyes with a soft sigh, happily exhausted. She didn’t want to move. Staying still sounded perfect.

The bed moved. Ada, bending her knees up, holding them against her belly.

Something _cold_ and slippery, nudging against her pussy. Her sensitive, fluttering pussy, ready to swallow whatever Ada would offer it, even as the rest of her body quivered in fear.

“I understand that you’re probably very high-strung right now,” said Ada, rubbing the head of her strap-on between Claire’s folds, “But I’m going to need you to relax and be mindful. After all, I told you to call me _lady_ , and you simply haven’t.” She beamed. Claire pinched her lips together. “We both need to cum, after all, so let’s see if I can convince another one out of you, hmm?”

“You- you can’t be serious.” Claire breathed, flinching whenever that thick strap nudged the clamp, “I- I’ll eat you out, I’ll let you fuck my face- there’s no way I can cum again-“

Ada rolled her hips and the dildo pushed into her sloppy cunt, every inch making Claire’s toes curl and fingers grasp at the handcuffs. Deeper and deeper until Ada’s harness was flush against her, cold on her ass. Claire cried out- how fucking big was the damn thing? It was so much larger than anything she’d had before, walls squeezing the intruder and catching every little bump and ridge on it. She was just getting used to it when Ada pulled out, stretching her entrance around the monster. Oh god, oh god. Ever time it moved it reminded her that the clamps where there, bringing that dull ache back to a sharp bite, Ada staking a claim on her pleasure.

Back in with a curl and it hit her g-spot, lightning coursing through her body, out enough to tap tap tap her clit and there was another scream. Inside, out, inside, out, nipples on fire, as though Ada would rip everything out from the roots. Back in, balls deep, stretched around that thick, luscious cock while Claire sobbed incoherently, slamming her head back against the pillows, torn between pushing forwards and pulling back with wild, kicking legs.

And Ada was talking.

“I’m starting- ugh- to think I should have used something bigger on you- look at that cunt, it’s swallowing the whole thing like a greedy little pig. Would you like that? Would that make you cum again, all desperate and needy? Distract you from these,” she tugged the chain harder and Claire screamed, “little things? They’re going to look so beautiful when they come off. You’ll be all red and hard and squirming. You won’t even be able to wear clothes when I’m done.” Another hard thrust. “Maybe I’ll keep you in here as a snack, ready for me to fuck and eat whenever I want. Maybe I’ll make sure you’re always naked and on display, so that I can plough you, just like this, stretch out your beautiful stomach on my big, fat cock. Would you like that? Do you want that?”

God yes she did. The overwhelming mingling feelings rose up once more, but this time they were razor sharp, knives all over her, every movement driving them deeper until she couldn’t tell what was a feeling and what was her mind trying to make sense of everything; bruised neck, wrists pinched, imagined pain because every part of her was _alive_ and torn between stopping and starting.

Thrust! Thrust! Thrust!

“Well, Claire?” Ada pressed her legs down, surrounding all of Claire’s vision, cock even deeper if that was possible. “Do you want to come again?”

Claire wheezed. She couldn’t think. Her mind was a whirlpool.

“I suppose I’ll just have to keep going then.”

Thrust!

“Keep rubbing and fucking until you’re all fucked out.”

Thrust!

“And after you’ve passed out, tired and sore and sensitive, we can do it all.”

Thrust!

“Over.”

Thrust!

“Again.”

Claire was babbling. She didn’t know what she was babbling. It could have been pleas for mercy, it could have been encouragement, it could have been all sorts of yes or no- she had no idea. Her voice had run away from her brain.

Ada moaned softly, rubbing her own cunt against the dildo until she went soft. Claire thought she might have cum herself. She was tired and aching. Her cunt throbbed.

“Please take them off,” Claire panted, “please.”

She ignored her, unclipping the harness, rubbing the red lines it had left imprinted on her thighs. She was unflappable. Sweating, breathless, but far more put together than Claire.

Ada grabbed the chain, thoughtfully tugging on it, relishing in Claire’s hissing.

“Oh, I’m not sure. Are they red enough yet?” Tug and a scream. “Mmm, they’re looking lovely and pink but I just haven’t heard that special word yet…”

“Please,” she begged, “please, please.”

“Maybe I should test it first.” Ada mused, tapping her fingers on the clit clamp, making Claire sob- real tears, starting to drip down her face because it felt so _good_ and _awful_ all at once, “See how nice and plump it is.” Ada dipped her face down. She blew on Claire’s pussy and that just made it all the more obvious how it was burning with all the blood rushing down.

“Please just take it off! It hurts! God it hurts- AGH!”

Ada closed her mouth around it, clamp and all. Claire’s back arched, like she wanted to thrust her clit into Ada’s throat, but all she got was a slow curl of the tongue, teasing it, like she was kissing a lover before a long goodbye. Her teeth knocked into the clamp, gently nipped at her clit, but as far as Claire was concerned it was like being shot. Too sensitive. Too tired to pull away from that fantastically torturous mouth, too tired even to rattle her wrists. Her nerves were alight, and her blood had been replaced with thick, dark molasses, taking a snail’s pace to tell her anything. Move. Shout. Do anything except let Ada torment her more, let Ada gently thrust the dildo in and out of her cunt while she lavished her clit with attention and pain.

Desperation crawled out of her throat in a hoarse wheeze. She felt like a candle burning out.

“Off, please, lady, take it off, please-“

Ada smirked around her pussy.

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

Chains were tight in her hands, tight as Claire felt, like the knot in her belly that ground hard against her clit, like even the gentlest move sent another, fresh stream of tears down her face. Ada was looking at her. Speaking.

“We got there in the end, didn’t we? Say it again.” A tug.

“Lady!”

“Good girl.” Ada spread her palm over Claire’s stomach, “you can come for me once more, can’t you?”

“No, no, I can’t, I can’t,” The thrusting started again, slow, steady, “I can’t! I can’t, lady-“

“Yes you can.” Her voice oozed over Claire. “You can. You’re going to come for me again. You’re going to scream out for me, clench around this lovely dildo, and then I’ll take these off, alright? I know you can do it darling.”

She was crying now, properly, sniffling and sobbing. Nodding at the promise of release.

“Come on, say it. Say you’ll come for me.”

“Will come for you,” she sniffed, “I will, lady.”

“ _Good_.” In and out. Hot and wet on her cunt. Sore. Humming, buzzing, like a thousand bees ready to sting. In and out. Stretch. _Fantastic_ , overwhelming, a spring coiled so tight in her body that when it snapped out she’d _be_ nothing, fade to black, forget.

Ada yanked the chains so hard that the clamps flew off her body.

The scream was barely a scream. It was something deep and primal, something that snapped every frayed nerve, burnt through all the tension in her body like a cleansing, holy fire blessing her anew. Sensations crashed together, indistinguishable from one another, the hot wet mouth fused with her hot cunt, intruder now a welcome part of her body, pain set into her bones like etchings on stone.

The world was almost painfully ordinary when she came down from the high of that orgasm. Ada was still at her pussy, idly licking. Claire wanted to move away. Claire couldn’t move away. She just twitched, fingers too useless to grasp the cuffs, muscles unable to do anything but tighten at the feeling. Her throat was hoarse. She could sigh or squeak, but words were beyond her. Everything was beyond her.

Ada guided out the strap-on. She felt empty without it. The sharp pains on her nipples and clit had been turned down to nothing but a dull ache, just like her neck, just like the rest of her body.

She didn’t realise her wrists were freed until Ada already had the handcuffs in one hand and Claire’s red wrists in the other. Blood. Just a little, like a scab had broken off, but still.

Ada licked it off before setting Claire’s wrists down on her body. She settled down above her, moving Claire until she was resting between her thighs, head on Ada’s stomach. Those nails felt much nicer scratching her scalp, tangling in her hair and running over her cheek.

“Good girl,” Ada murmured, “You’re a very good girl. You did so well today, darling, I’m so impressed.”

Claire tried to smile. Even her face was tired. Whatever expression came out made Ada chuckle. They laid in the quiet for a while, Ada mumbling praise and petting Claire softly while Claire threw dopey expressions out. It was like being in a dream, where everything felt fuzzy. Even the aches, a warm reminder of that intensity, all focused on her.

But Claire needed a drink, and she probably needed to pee, too. So with some grumbling (not to mention nearly falling over), they stumbled back into reality. Reality, which had jugs of water, hot baths and little orange slices.

Reality, where Claire Redfield woke up with a vampire, somewhere in Europe, happily fucked out and too sleepy to care about the implications of an actual goddamn vampire that was real and snoring beside her.

 

She crept downstairs, poking around rooms until she found a kitchen. It was a charming blend of the rustic castle and modern technology. There was a lovely hearth as well as a refrigerator.

The butler was standing over a chopping board, staring at some bananas like they’d betrayed him personally.

Leon was already at the table, hair mussed, eyes half closed and in a t-shirt about ten sizes too big. The butler was behind him, flipping pancakes with the same bored look as ever.

Claire felt a pang of guilt try to flicker up through her. She threw it aside, reasoning that if she wasn’t allowed to be distracted by the best fuck of her life, she wasn’t allowed to be distracted by anything.

Besides, Leon looked fine. Sleepy, but fine. She sat in a chair next to him, poking his arm until he squinted at her. “Busy night?” She asked, as Mr. X dropped a plate in front of Leon, giving him a pat on the head. He yawned before smiling, “The room service here is fantastic.”

Claire nodded. It was way better than a tent.

 

 


End file.
